Chapter 14 — THE WOMAN BEHIND THE WHOLE CONSPIRACY
We left the warehouse through a service tunnel beneath the building.
No sirens.
No police.
No flashing lights.
Vincent didn't trust any of them.
Not anymore.
I walked beside him while Vanessa followed several steps behind.
My head was still spinning.
My father might be alive.
Someone had his ring.
Someone had been monitoring me for seven years.
And apparently, someone had arranged almost every disaster that had happened since the day Vincent kissed me in that restaurant.
I stopped walking.
"Vincent."
He turned.
"Who is behind this?"
He didn't answer.
"Don't tell me you don't know."
His silence was answer enough.
I stepped closer.
"You've spent seven years protecting me."
"Yes."
"You knew about my father."
"Yes."
"You knew about the trust."
"Yes."
"You knew Tyler was investigating me."
"Yes."
I stared at him.
"And you knew Vanessa wasn't who she claimed to be."
His expression hardened.
"Yes."
I felt betrayed.
"Then what exactly did you not tell me?"
Vincent looked at me for a long moment.
"Too much."
That answer hurt more than an excuse.
Before I could respond, Vanessa spoke.
"He's not the only one."
I turned.
She stood beneath the weak yellow light.
"Your mother knew too."
My stomach dropped.
"No."
"Emily—"
"No."
I shook my head.
"My mother was terrified."
"She was."
"She protected me."
"She did."
"Then don't make her into a villain."
Vanessa stepped closer.
"I'm not."
She reached into her coat.
She pulled out a photograph.
She handed it to me.
I looked down.
My mother.
Much younger.
Standing beside my father.
And beside them was someone else.
A woman.
Elegant.
Dark hair.
Expensive coat.
Cold smile.
I knew her.
My heart stopped.
"Isabella."
Vincent went completely still.
Vanessa nodded.
"She wasn't just an enemy of Vincent."
I looked at the photograph again.
"When was this taken?"
"Twenty-four years ago."
I stared at Vanessa.
"Why was she with my parents?"
"Because she was one of the people your father trusted."
Vincent took the photograph from my hand.
His expression changed.
"I never saw this."
Vanessa looked at him.
"Your grandfather did."
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Your grandfather knew Isabella."
She paused.
"He also knew what she was doing."
Vincent's face became unreadable.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because your grandfather was part of it."
The words seemed to freeze the air.
Vincent stepped toward her.
"Choose your next words carefully."
Vanessa didn't back away.
"Your grandfather built the original financial network."
"That network was dismantled."
"No."
She shook her head.
"It was renamed."
Vincent stared at her.
"The companies in the blue file weren't independent."
She pointed toward me.
"They were connected through your family."
I looked at Vincent.
He didn't deny it.
That scared me more than anything.
Vanessa continued.
"Your father discovered the transfers."
"My father?"
"Yes."
"Then why was he killed?"
"He wasn't."
The room went silent.
I whispered:
"You think he's alive."
"I know he was alive three years ago."
Vincent closed his eyes.
I saw something in his face.
Pain.
Not surprise.
Pain.
"You knew," I whispered.
He opened his eyes.
"I suspected."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
His voice was quiet.
"I didn't have proof."
I stepped back.
"Seven years."
He said nothing.
"Seven years, Vincent."
"I searched."
"Without telling me."
"Because every time someone got close to the truth, someone disappeared."
I stared at him.
"Like Isabella?"
"Isabella was different."
"How?"
"She wasn't the mastermind."
"Then who is?"
Vincent looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa looked at me.
Neither answered.
I felt anger rising.
"Enough."
They both turned toward me.
"I've spent my entire life being lied to."
My voice shook.
"My mother lied about my father."
"Vincent lied about what he knew."
"Tyler lied about loving me."
"Vanessa lied about who she was."
I wiped my eyes.
"I am done being the person everyone protects by keeping her ignorant."
Vincent moved toward me.
I held up my hand.
"Don't."
He stopped.
"I don't need another protector."
His eyes softened.
"You need someone beside you."
"Then stand beside me."
I pointed toward the photograph.
"And tell me everything."
Vincent looked at the floor.
Then finally spoke.
"Your father discovered that money was being moved through a network called the Blue Trust."
I listened.
"The money came from legitimate companies."
"Construction."
"Banking."
"Real estate."
"Shipping."
"But it was being redirected through shell companies."
"Some of those companies belonged to my grandfather."
I swallowed.
"Why?"
"Because he was funding people."
"What people?"
"Judges."
"Politicians."
"Police officials."
"Businessmen."
Vincent's voice became colder.
"He was buying protection."
I looked at Vanessa.
"And Isabella?"
"She was one of the people who managed the political side."
"And Elias?"
"Elias handled enforcement."
I felt sick.
"My father discovered all of it."
"Yes."
"And he copied the evidence."
"Yes."
"Then he disappeared."
Vincent nodded.
"But he didn't disappear because Elias found him."
I frowned.
"Then why?"
Vincent looked directly at me.
"Because he realized someone inside our own family had betrayed him."
I stared at him.
"Who?"
Vincent hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
"You know."
"I have a name."
"Say it."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I'm wrong, I destroy an innocent person."
"And if you're right?"
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Then that person has been controlling my life."
Vincent looked at Vanessa.
She nodded.
He finally said:
"Your mother."
I felt as if the floor disappeared beneath me.
"No."
"Emily—"
"My mother?"
"She didn't betray your father."
He took a breath.
"She helped him disappear."
I couldn't speak.
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Your mother changed your records."
"She changed your surname."
"She erased your connection to the DeLuca family."
"She made you look ordinary."
"She made you disappear."
I remembered everything.
The altered birth certificate.
The missing hospital records.
The photographs.
The lies.
The fear in my mother's eyes whenever I asked about my father.
She hadn't been hiding my father from me.
She had been hiding me from everyone.
But why?
I looked at Vincent.
"Why would she do that?"
"Because someone had already found you."
"Who?"
Vincent's expression hardened.
"Elias."
I shook my head.
"No."
Vanessa spoke quietly.
"Not Elias."
I looked at her.
She held up another photograph.
This one showed a little girl.
Me.
Seven years old.
Standing outside the hospital.
Yellow sweater.
White sneakers.
Untied shoelace.
The same photograph Vincent had shown me.
But there was something different.
Written on the back were four words.
I turned it over.
My father's handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
My hands began to shake.
The message said:
SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING. RUN.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Who is she?"
Vanessa didn't answer.
I looked at Vincent.
He didn't answer either.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice came through.
Soft.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Emily."
My blood ran cold.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it hundreds of times.
At family gatherings.
At charity events.
On television.
The voice of a woman everyone in Chicago respected.
The voice of a woman who had hugged me when I was a child.
The voice of someone I had never once considered dangerous.
"Emily," she said again.
"You've been asking the wrong people the right questions."
I couldn't breathe.
Vincent watched my face.
"Who is this?"
A quiet laugh.
"You really don't recognize me?"
I closed my eyes.
And suddenly remembered something.
A woman standing in my mother's kitchen twenty years ago.
A silver bracelet.
A small scar on her right wrist.
A hand resting on my father's shoulder.
A whisper.
If anything happens, I'll take care of the girl.
I opened my eyes.
"No."
The voice laughed again.
"Yes."
The line went dead.
I slowly lowered the phone.
Vincent stepped toward me.
"Who was it?"
I looked at him.
Then at Vanessa.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
"I know who is behind everything."
"Who?"
I swallowed.
"The woman who promised my father she'd protect me."
Vincent's face changed.
"Emily..."
I whispered the name.
And the moment I did, Vincent's entire expression went cold.
Because he knew her too.
May you like
And she was the one person none of us had thought to suspect.
My mother.
